


Untitled (for now)

by Lady Mythos (CelestialStars)



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, Drabble, Giant Robots, Help, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 13:42:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15664347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestialStars/pseuds/Lady%20Mythos
Summary: Uh, I accidentally created my own Regency novel AU that's what happens if Jane Austen and the Bronte sisters decided to trade tips and apply their unholy collaboration onto giant robots. Whoops?





	Untitled (for now)

**Author's Note:**

> Uh, enjoy?

Prowl could scarcely vent. _Jazz_ , an uncharacteristic image of perfect propriety and decorum, floated delicately down the grand staircase. His paint gleamed a modest black and white with red and blue stripes as a concession to the neon preferences of current fashion trends. The only other allowance conceded was a gauzy half-cape fluttering shades of iridescent aqua. Though still small from a history of malnutrition, his frame bore his armor with a sturdiness that belied good food and consistent medical attention. His helm was raised high but his face was tilted ever so slightly down, now masked slightly by a dimmed blue visor which Prowl knew hid bright yet cracked turquoise optics. The perfect image of demure pride. Jazz alighted on the ballroom floor and made an elegant salute to the whole assembly.

"I thank thee, Lords and Ladies and Distinguished Guests, for attending my debut," Jazz murmured in clear and perfect Higher Prime Vernacular, so thoroughly shaking Prowl that his wings flared to their full glory, prompting a surly growl from the Seeker next to him. "Thy presence is truly welcome in these hallowed halls. I trust that thou shall enjoy the festivities as organized by mine most generous sponsors. They have treated myself with incomprehensible courtesy and for such, I must salute both. To the Divine Prime and his Lord High Protector!"

"May Primus's face shine upon them both," the hall recited, joining Jazz in his salute. Thunderous applause erupted as the Prime descended from his platform and bestowed an affectionate kiss upon the brow of his beneficiary. Jazz bowed his helm once more and turned to face his audience.

"And with the persmission of my guardians, I declare this ball shall begin in earnest. May the dancing commence!" The sweet strains of a vibrolin filled the air on cue and the ballroom floor cleared to allow for dancing. Jazz disappeared into a mob of salutations and congratulations, leaving Prowl alone with his thoughts.

He was stricken. His last memory of Jazz was of bright laughter as he held a giggling Bluestreak upon his hip strut. Half-blind optics winked cheekily at Prowl as a cheerful voice called him from his business in saucy Poly'lect. Prowl had bid the command and had folded the two in his arms, pressing one kiss to a little ruby chevron and another to a worn silver helm. The three of them had picnicked in the garden, laughing as Bluestreak gorged himself on wild amethyst geodes that had sprouted between the good crystals. Prowl had been deliriously happy that day, lounging on the blankets with two perfect mechs in his arms. He would have never left the gardens if he had known that the next morning would be filled with a heartbreaking letter, bitter tears, and an empty bed.

But now, fifty vorns later, beautiful, _precious_ , little Jazz mingled only a few mechanometers from him, noble and gracious and a complete shadow of the mech Prowl remembered. What had happened so long ago to reduce Jazz to such a strange little doll? He'd accuse the Prime and his Protector of abuse but the earnest glances that traced Jazz's frame every so often suggested they too knew that something was very wrong.

Prowl steeled himself. Jazz's final, tearful, letter burned in his subspace and it was time that he heard the whole truth from Jazz himself. While confronting Jazz was out of the question, perhaps sending his calling card would be the next best option. Prowl walked towards that strange demure smile, praying for once his his life that he would not frighten away the only mech that he could ever love.

**Author's Note:**

> I blame Pride and Prejudice for this.


End file.
